Letters and Music
by kickstergal
Summary: No way in metaphorical hell was Booth ever, ever going to read it'....Brennan writes a letter. Total songfic. I know. I. Know.


DISCLAIMER: Yeah. Don't own. Sucks to be me. XD

Author's Note- Pretty much a song fic. But hopefully it'll enhance the whole reading process. Or something. And the song is actually really beautiful. Really. Bic Runga is choice, mate.

She sat down to write, the lyrics from the song still spinning, curling through her head.

She'd been given a CD of Bic Runga by Angela a while ago, who swore the music was pure poetry.

She'd then put it on top of her stereo and forgotten about it.

But something about the events of yesterday had inexplicably increased her need for poetry. So, she'd sat down with a glass of wine, a bowl of pasta, and listened to love songs.

It was all going pretty well and she was drifting back several hours ago to when Booth had kissed her…well, if she wanted to be pedantic about it, strictly speaking, _she_ had kissed _Booth_. And she'd been working on conjuring up the sensation of his shirt against her cheek and the way his hands had moved through her hair, along the nape of her neck, when the song had come on.

One entitled "Sway."

_Don't stray_

_Don't ever go away_

_I should be much too smart for this_

_I know it gets the better of me sometimes_

_When you and I collide_

_I fall into an ocean of you  
Pull me out in time  
Don't let me drown  
Let me down  
I say it's all because of you_

_And here I go  
Losing my control  
I'm practicing your name  
So I can say it to your face _

_It doesn't seem right  
To look you in the eye  
And let all the things you mean to me  
Come tumbling out my mouth _

_Indeed its time  
Tell you why  
I say its infinitely true  
_

_Say you'll stay   
Don't come and go  
Like you do  
Sway my way  
Yeah I need to know  
All about you  
_

_And there's no cure  
And no way to be sure  
Why everything's turned inside out  
Instilling so much doubt  
It makes me so tired  
I feel so uninspired  
My head is battling with my heart   
My logic has been torn apart  
_

_And now  
It all turns sour  
Come sweeten  
Every afternoon  
_

_Say you'll stay   
Don't come and go  
Like you do  
Sway my way  
Yeah I need to know  
All about you  
_

_Say you'll stay   
Don't come and go  
Like you do  
Sway my way  
Yeah I need to know  
All about you  
_

_Its all because of you  
Its all because of you_

And then she'd gotten the damn song stuck in her head.

So she figured the only way to get it out was to attempt some kind of poetry herself, see if they cancelled each other out.

Unfortunately, while she understood the principles of stanzas, and verses, and the patterns they made, she could not write poetry.

So she decided to write a letter, which she was then going to either burn or lock away forever in her drawer, because no way in metaphorical hell was Booth ever, ever going to read it.

She wasn't even sure if she was going to admit the words she was writing to herself, despite irrevocable proof they were true, in the beat of her pulse and the way her heart felt when he was near her. The way it felt when he wasn't near her.

And least the song was fading away.

_So __here I go. Losing my control._

_I have no words for this, but I'm falling headlong into something I can't manage, can't contain, can't mould to my will. _

_You are immovable, and that is infinitely frustrating to me, because you look at me, and I become malleable, mouldable._

_Subject__ to change. _

_Others change for me. Others change, for _me

_I don't know how to stop this, keep this still and quiet, when everything in me suspects the whole world is let in on the secret when I feel that contagious, foolish grin spread across my face when you smile at me. _

_When I hear your voice, coming up the hall, outside__ my door, and it's all I can do to appear studiously unconcerned. I don't know what this is, this feeling I'm terrified of and yet am becoming addicted to. It can't be love. I've known love. It's warm, and comforting. A hot drink on a cold night, and simple, honest conversation. With you, it's complicated words and double meanings, heat and passion, and a truth that strikes deep, to the very soul, to that part of me that is most who I am._

_And yet, I can picture a fire, and a cold night, drinking hot chocolate, with you._

_And safety. _

_I do feel safe, with you. Your embrace is the safest and most dangerous place I have ever known._

_So, what to do. You know how I feel. You can make me say it in a thousand ways other than words, and still I know you are not satisfied. _

_You want a __commitment, a promise of something more. And I don't know If I can do that. I have a history of breaking everything I touch. I know how strong you are. But are you strong enough to withstand me? _

_I couldn't stand to see that look in your eyes change, to see that look in your eyes becoming something hard and unyielding, like__ when you look at your suspects. _

_I w__ant to always be who you see when you look at me, now._

_But I have secrets and q__uirks, and things that normal people do not have. I am different, and different generally means unlovable._

_I want you. I can admit this. When you stroke my cheek, and all of a sudden I cannot take a breath, or when you kiss me and my mind goes away, I know this is true. I want to feel you in the night, to know you are sleeping beside me as the world turns. I want to run my hand down the length of your spine, sometimes more than anything else I want. Sometimes these thoughts take up entire minutes of my time, and it's then I resent you. For making me different again to what I was. Making me feel deeper, more intensely than I ever have. For making me see the world through your eyes. _

_But then you smile at me, and try as I might, I cannot help smiling back, and feeling my stomach clench with suppressed laughter, I know you have me. I am yours. Do with me what you will, but don't break me. _

_You already fixed me, once. I don't think I could stand to be broken again, knowing what whole feels like._

She hesitated, then added a character at the bottom.

_B. _

She sighed, folded the letter carefully and rose to lock it away in her drawer.

Maybe she'd tell him. Maybe tomorrow, maybe never.

But she was struck with the nagging thought that maybe, he already knew.

Author's note- Yup. This song was almost on permanent replay in my head…but it went away when I wrote this. Go figure. XD Have a great week, guys!


End file.
